copulation - literal and cussful

it has been annoying for two straight days now. it was that time of the year when moths breed. and damn were they plenty. the worst part is, they hover just in the level of your face. it is annoying that thousands of moths are having sex in your face. it is disgusting and offensive! i don't care if they jump in on an airborne invertebrate swingers party but to do that in my face is just downright degrading.

god i need to get laid.

- - -

so i had been in this relationship that ended a couple of months ago leaving me clueless why it did. for some time, i occasionally send a text message or try to make a call to the guy with a goal of getting a response aka closure. so many things had already happened in my life. i quit my job, lost my house, fumbled on unemployment and almost dated.

note: please do not read this if you are someone who will have holes in your life because your friend does.

i had my life going perfectly fine. sure, i send a text message once in a while but i was so used to not getting a reply from him. but this time he did. and after all the time i've spent moping and wondering what went wrong, he lets me know i was to blame without even letting me know why he does. so i mope and wonder and contemplate and ask him again. he does the same thing and just shoves it in my face that it was all my fault. that i was the one who left. why would i mope and cry and contemplate and have a hard fucking time moving on if i was the one who left him. how can one person torture you by not telling what the fuck is wrong. is the truth so hard to explain to me. yeah he is a registered nurse and i am a college drop out but damn he can't even read a whole poem. why is it so hard to explain? and why am i so hung up with that asshole.

afternote: i told you. you should not have read this.

for leaving

i hope you find peace. swell the waters that you missed. and grant more peace to those you left.

dear matt

a man asleep (wake up, matt)

if ever you see the world again

you will see faces

will you be able to remember

or will you continue living in your dreams

will you hear more laughter

or the silence of their tears

the world does not lie on your shoulders

the burden is never yours to bear

go on and live again for however you dare

the fight is never over until you choose to surrender

...a post for a certain guy whom i have never known personally know but at one point wanted to meet. he now battles to wake up from his coma. wake up matty. wake up.

a moment of silence

so, there were a lot of minutes spent alone nowadays. the room seems bigger without someone to bug you every now and then for a smile. or grab your arm and bellow out a big laugh just because he feels like it. you type words in your blog and spend an eternity staring at the flat monitor in front of you without having to check if someone is still asleep at the foot of your bed. you don't bother checking the time anymore because you don't have someone worrying that you're staying up so late in the night.

you are now alone. you don't have someone taking every friggin' minute of your writing time. you are free to write whatever you want without having to consider if you might hurt someone's feelings just because you are too honest with your words.

oh dear. singlehood is creeping up on me. i wonder how some people can just turn things off instantly. i wonder why other people seek closure.

ikaw na umindayog sa'king pag-ibig

siya ring kikitil sa nabuong nating himig

moving on

living again has not been easy. having been shoved in the sidelines of singlehood had made me a bit obscured to reality. again, i write like a bee out of flowers. i see that love has finally caught up with me and i am a terrible single, as i am terrible as a boyfriend. so what do you do when you are caught in between? after four sentences im still not making any sense.

moving on

living again has not been easy. having been shoved in the sidelines of singlehood had made me a bit obscured to reality. again, i write like a bee out of flowers. i see that love has finally caught up with me and i am a terrible single, as i am terrible as a boyfriend. so what do you do when you are caught in between? after four sentences im still not making any sense.

drowning

fended every demon lately my love

worked from nine in the eve until seven

grabbed a cup of coffee on my way home

rode the bus and off to the moon i go

what happened to that melody my love?

what had become of the musings and the songs and the dreamings we had

is there any way to get them back?

i guess not. i guess not.

hold on tighter my dear love

for this boat is sinking and i am yet to fly

i don't wanna be washed away again

so hold onto my hand and close your eyes

so whatever happened to those questions?

aren't they to be answered now?

am i singing out of key?

it's okay coz from now on i'll be singing alone

i guess not. i guess not.

painted thoughts and the hot summer

1.34 pm pc time and i begin writing about sad and angry that i want to begin hurling and start pushing people down the spartan pit of death.

but i delete everything and begin the blog by saying

i am syncing. my idea of is slowly becoming in touch with . which is null.

remembering pinatubo

11.56 pc time. i had not been able to post anything yesterday. i had the opportunity to render my go-home hours and the rest of my sleeping time in a motel near the office. i tire at the thought of going home to greet the flood a welcome inside the house again. i'm dying for a change of atmosphere - in my case, calamity. i went straight to the office at night to do slavework again, this time without the eyebags. i've never felt so refreshed in ages. a hot and cold shower had done the trick.

during my 12 hour stay in the motel, i was able to fascinate myself with tv. we dont have cable at home. come to think about it, we dont even have a tv at home apart from the portable one installed in my hi-tech china phone (i regurgitate my last meal as i state this). one show made me stop for a while and drove myself to tears - a drop or two and made me remember another calamity. i know, i know, what a pathetic segue. go make your own blog if you think you can do it better.

- - -

june 10. national geographic aired what may have been the most catastrophic natural disaster that shook the world. the pinatubo eruption. 3 days from now in 1991, the pinatubo will blow up the sea of lava hiding from beneath it's surface. today the pinatubo will show the greatest mushroom cloud of poisonous smoke as an appetizer. the main dish is waiting to be served below. the emission of sulfur will produce silent lightnings. the action is above and the pesky humans are just seeing a sight to remember. june 15 will be the main attraction but nobody will be excited enough to stay and watch as they flee the radius. the great exodus. thousands of people will now flee the home they once knew only to come back to see a wasteland of gray dried lahar. that is if they ever manage to stay alive. the cataclysm will continue only to meet another of mother nature's force. just as mt pinatubo was in his perkiest mood, tropical storm yunya decided to join the fun. a rain of volcanic debris began to splatter the whole province. ravaging floods of lahar then came to destroy the left-overs.

i remember playing with the ashfall in my window. imagining it was sand. beach sand. collecting as many as possible so i can make a sandcastle. the sky was dark at 3.00 pm. we did not have a tv back then too now that i remember it. no one was allowed outside for fear of another cataclysm. everyone was scared - but mostly sympathetic. i never knew how it is to march in exodus from the life you always knew. mother nature is the worst evictor. that part i know.

so at this point, i would like to remember the ashfall-castles i dreamed of building. and the lives of those people who dreamed but was forcibly evicted out of it. and those whose lives were lost. and those who managed to rebuild their castles despite everything.

was it worth it?

i lived

not whole and never

only breathing to survive the act of breathing

the next thin air to touch my

lungs stricken with soot

of painfully brewing sickness that wreaks

absurdity

then wither

then why seek

why wait

why challenge

only to wither again

those dark materials

i've silently faded myself into the warden of doom. i look at the reflection i create in the puddle i spilled and i don't think its anywhere near my lunacy. i'm sane, which is so humiliating. i love running around naked but why cant do it anymore?

i refer to my inner momentum to garner my eagerness to watch myself crumble into a world too certain which is very unfortunate since the last time i checked. i miss my old stagger. the gait that proclaimed nuisance and revealed nothing but my flesh. nothing that speaks of my gut nor my spleen.

my wrist is ready to be wounded and so is my shin.